There is a distinct friction that exists between the analog world and the digital one. For years, analog notebooks have been the graveyard of good intentions—lists of books to read, article ideas to write, and companies to investigate, all trapped in the amber of my barely legible handwriting.
I recently found myself looking at one of these lists: a scrawl of company names I had jotted down while reading an article discussing possible companies for investment in 2026. Usually, this is where the work begins—taking my handwritten notes, typing them out one by one, searching for tickers, opening tabs, etc. It is low-value administrative work that often kills any spark of curiosity before it can turn into useful analysis.
“The barrier to entry for deep research drops to the time it takes to snap a photo.”
On a whim, I snapped a photo and uploaded it to Gemini 3 Pro. “Transcribe this,” I asked. “Give me the tickers.”
I expected errors. My handwriting is, to put it mildly, not easy to read (even for me!).
Instead, the AI didn’t just perform Optical Character Recognition (OCR); it performed contextual recognition. It understood that the scribble resembling “Apl” in a list of businesses was likely Apple, and returned $AAPL. It deciphered the intent behind the ink.
But the real shift happened when I asked Gemini to pivot immediately into research. Within seconds, I went from a static piece of paper to a dynamic analysis of P/E ratios, recent news, and market sentiment. The friction was gone.
This experience wasn’t just about productivity; it was about the fluidity of thought. We are moving toward a reality where the interface between the physical world and digital intelligence is becoming permeable. When the barrier to entry for deep research drops to the time it takes to snap a photo, our curiosity is no longer limited by our patience for data entry. We are free to simply think.
I recently came across a tweet from someone visiting San Francisco:
I asked a billionaire what his biggest regret was: His response was short and sweet: “I wish I wrote more down”. You’ll never remember all the ups and downs. Write it down. Got me thinking – you’ll appreciate it in 5 years. Even more in 25.
A billionaire’s life – indeed all of our lives – is a tapestry woven with threads of triumph, adversity, and everything in between. Each strand tells a story, captures a moment, and etches itself into the fabric of our existence. Yet, as time marches on, the vibrant hues of these close at hand experiences can fade, and the intricate patterns become harder to discern.
The billionaire’s simple yet profound regret, “I wish I wrote more down,” resonates deeply with me. It echoes the timeless lament of those who have witnessed life’s grand spectacle unfold before their eyes, only to find that the vivid details have slipped through the cracks of our memory’s imperfect grasp.
In the whirlwind of success, ambition, and the constant motion everyday life, it’s all too easy to let the precious moments slip away, unrecorded and unpreserved. The exhilarating highs, the gut-wrenching lows, and the countless nuances that paint the canvas of our lives can blur together, until they become mere whispers in the wind.
Writing, that humble act of putting pen to paper, becomes a lifeline to the past, a tether that anchors us to the richness of our experiences. Each word, each sentence, is a breadcrumb trail leading back to the tapestry’s beginnings, allowing us to retrace our steps and relive the triumphs, the heartbreaks, and the lessons that shaped our journey.
As the years pass, the value of those written accounts only grows. Five years from now, they may serve as gentle reminders of the paths we’ve trodden. Twenty-five years hence, they could become priceless treasures, unveiling the intricate patterns that wove together the fabric of our existence, patterns that might have otherwise been lost to the sands of time.
The billionaire’s regret is a poignant reminder that wealth and success, however grand, cannot preserve the essence of our lived experiences. It is the written word, the humble chronicling of our triumphs and struggles, that holds the power to immortalize the tapestry of our lives, ensuring that the rich hues of memory never fade into oblivion.
And, sometimes, it just might be the photograph that matters most – beyond the written word. That smart phone is our pocket just might be the best capture device we’ve ever had – even better than pen and paper. Snapping a quick photo to capture a memory can make a big impact on us later – and might be something we’re even more willing than our writing to share with other important people in our lives.
That smart phone might also become your “pen” as voice dictation has gotten so powerful and useful for quickly capturing our thoughts on the go. A tap on the smart watch begins a recording. We send that through an AI translator who makes it into words. And we’re almost done. No more excuses – we can weave our tapestry of live very easily!
Update: I received a comment from a reader worth responding to: The pertinent question could be how do you know what needs to be written down? The hindsight makes you see an illusory landscape of missed opportunities, however it’s hard to see that landscape as it’s being formed.
Response (with the help of Claude 3):
You raise an excellent point – in the midst of living our lives, it can be challenging to discern which moments truly deserve to be chronicled. The tapestry is being woven in real-time, and it’s not always evident which threads will form the most intricate and meaningful patterns until we gain the perspective of hindsight.
While it’s true that we cannot capture every fleeting detail, there are certain experiences that tend to stand out as pivotal or transformative, even as they unfold. Major life events, such as career milestones, personal triumphs, or significant relationships, often carry an inherent weight that signals their importance in the grand tapestry.
Beyond these obvious markers, it’s the small, seemingly insignificant moments that can become the most treasured threads in retrospect. A shared laugh with a loved one, a chance encounter that altered our perspective, or a quiet moment of personal revelation – these are the subtle nuances that imbue our tapestry with depth and richness.
Perhaps the key lies in cultivating a heightened awareness and appreciation for the present moment. By making a conscious effort to pause and savor the experiences that resonate deeply within us, we increase our chances of recognizing the threads worth preserving.
Ultimately, the act of writing itself can serve as a filter, helping us sift through the vast expanse of our lives and extract the moments that truly matter. As we put pen to paper, the inherent significance of certain experiences becomes more apparent, guiding us towards capturing the essence of our tapestry before the colors fade.
While the landscape of missed opportunities may seem illusory in hindsight, the simple act of documenting our journey can help mitigate those regrets, ensuring that the vibrant hues of our lived experiences remain etched in the annals of our personal histories, forever vivid and everlasting.
In other words, the most important takeaway is cultivating a heightened awareness and appreciation for the present moment can help us recognize the experiences and moments worth documenting and preserving as we live our lives. By being mindful and savoring the experiences that resonate deeply with us as they happen, we increase our chances of identifying the meaningful threads that should be woven into the tapestry of our memories through writing and documentation. This present-moment awareness allows us to extract the most significant parts of our journey before the vibrancy of those moments potentially fades with time.
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”
– Louis L’Amour
This quotation from renowned author Louis L’Amour gets at one of the fundamental truths about the writing process – you can’t produce anything until you actually start writing. The blank page or cursor blinking on the screen can feel intimidating, even paralyzing at times. But L’Amour’s metaphor reminds us that words won’t magically appear until we muster the courage to turn on the faucet and let them flow.
Few pieces of advice are more important than this simple reminder to begin. Launch into that first sentence, that first paragraph, without judging whether it’s perfect or polished. Overthinking and editing prematurely are among the surest ways to stifle creativity before it ever emerges. No matter how talented writers are, their genius remains dammed up unless they release it through the act of writing itself.
The good news is that writing begets more writing. Once you turn on the faucet and let those initial words and ideas trickle out, they help erode the dam of hesitation and doubt. Momentum builds. The trickle becomes a stream and then a forceful current carrying you to insights, descriptions, and creative formulations you couldn’t possibly have conceived until you began writing.
That’s because the very process of writing seems to unlock portals in our minds. The simple act of articulating partial thoughts on the page sparks neurons to fire in new patterns, illuminating connections and opening new cognitive pathways. While staring at a blank page, our brains may feel stuck in rigid philosophical grooves. But acting on L’Amour’s advice and beginning to write, no matter how clumsily or inchoately, dislodges our thinking from its ruts.
By writing, we inadvertently begin a mystical and profoundly human process of turning the lead of our murky semi-thoughts into the gold of lucid, coherent ideas and arguments. But this alchemical magic can only be triggered once we turn on the faucet and accept whatever initially pours forth, no matter how unrefined and unlovely it may appear.
Of course, once the raw material has been expressed, then the real craft of writing takes over as we revise, rearrange, edit, and refine. But that crucial first step cannot be skipped or procrastinated any longer. As L’Amour knew, nothing can flow if the faucet stays off. As Picasso allegedly quipped, “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” Without the courage to put words on paper and let creative juices drip, writers will find that even the muses cannot help them.
The metaphor also reminds us that once we do turn on the creative faucet, we often cannot fully control the rate or nature of the flow. Sometimes it pours too quickly, with a torrent of ideas gushing in a scattered frenzy. Other times, it dribbles out maddeningly slowly. The water may run murky for a while before it clears. Creative flow frequently alternates between droughts and floods in ways beyond our control.
But the important thing is to trust that the faucet works if we only switch it on. The water will ultimately flow, even if it takes time to find its steady, crystal-clear stream. As long as we don’t shut off the faucet prematurely out of impatience or self-doubt, the channel of imagination remains open and unblocked.
So to all the writers reading this who stare despondently at blank screens and feel creatively frustrated, heed L’Amour’s simple wisdom: Just start writing, with the faith that the faucet works even when it doesn’t seem to. Don’t judge or fret over the initial quality, just turn it on and let it run until it flows freely. Give utterance to the tangled threads of your thoughts and watch in awe as the very act of writing begins to unsnarl and weave them into glorious tapestries.
For those special times when true inspiration does strike like a lightning bolt and ideas pour forth in an unstoppable gush, then you can cry joyful thanks that the faucet was turned on and unobstructed. But for most of the ordinary writing days, you simply have to show up and turn on the flow through plain old self-discipline, grit and persistence. See what wonders and marvels flow when you finally give the waters of your art a path to travel. L’Amour assures that they will indeed flow, if only we have the bravery to turn the tap and let them go.
We’ve all experienced it before – someone makes a comment that doesn’t sit well with us or feels like a personal attack. Our natural reaction is often to get defensive and respond with anger. However, there is a more positive alternative.
Instead of reacting defensively, we can choose to reflect on the situation. By taking a moment to pause and consider the comment, we can find a better way to respond that promotes understanding and empathy. In doing so, we can transform potentially hurtful situations into opportunities for personal growth and connection.
Rather than reacting in the moment when you feel slighted, make a point to capture the comment and reflect on it later. Here are some tips:
Mentally flag it. When the hurtful comment happens, simply make a mental note that you want to revisit this later. Don’t ignore it, but don’t dwell on it in the moment either.
Write it down. As soon as possible after the interaction, write down the comment word-for-word to the best of your recollection. Capture any other key details about the context as well. Getting it out of your head and onto paper can help diffuse the intensity of the emotions.
Ask yourself key questions. When you’re ready to reflect, ask yourself: What was the intent behind this comment? Was it meant to be hurtful or did I interpret it that way? Is my reaction disproportionate to what was actually said? What insecurities or experiences of mine may be getting triggered?
Consider the other perspective. Try to look at it from the other person’s point of view. What were they trying to express? Is there some valid point I’m missing because of my defensiveness?
Examine your part. Could I have said or done something to contribute to the situation? Is there a way I can act differently next time to lead to a more positive outcome?
Let some time pass. Don’t force yourself to analyze the comment within minutes or hours of when it occurred. Let the intensity of the emotions fade so you can reflect calmly and objectively.
Talk to a trusted friend. Getting an outside perspective from someone you trust can be invaluable. Run the comment and context by them to see if they have any insights about the intent or any blind spots you may have.
Consider if any action is needed. After reflecting, decide whether any follow-up action is appropriate – either clarifying the misunderstanding with the other person or making a change in your own behavior going forward.
Practice self-compassion. Remember that everyone makes mistakes and says things they regret. Don’t beat yourself up excessively over the situation. Focus on what you can learn from it.
Forgive and move on. At a certain point, you have to consciously choose to forgive the other person, forgive yourself, and move on constructively rather than staying stuck in resentment.
Taking this reflective approach avoids knee-jerk defensive reactions. It gives you space to process the comment from multiple angles. That said, reflection has its downsides if you overdo it:
Over-analyzing can keep rehashing the pain instead of moving past it.
You may second-guess yourself or wallow in regret over how you handled it initially.
Dwelling negatively affects your self-esteem and crowds out other more positive thoughts.
Keeping mental records of grievances breeds resentment and damages relationships.
It takes time and energy that could be better directed elsewhere.
The healthiest approach is to reflect just long enough to gain some useful perspective, but not so long that you get mired down. Use the insights from reflection to better handle similar situations in the future, then make an intentional decision to shift your focus to something more positive.
Learning to respond thoughtfully rather than react defensively requires dedication and practice. It empowers you to engage in a manner that reflects your values, preserving your own dignity while keeping the lines of communication open with those who hold different perspectives. With time, you will become adept at recognizing and intercepting negative thought patterns, enabling you to remain poised and grounded even when faced with hurtful remarks.
Years ago, I tuned into the journaling work of Ira Progoff – reading his books and appreciating what he was advocating. But I never seriously committed to his journaling practice. Just too lazy, I think. (Yes, I did decide to start blogging over 10 years ago – but blogs and journals are different – public/private, etc.)
Earlier this year, I had surgery for prostate cancer. In the process, I reconnected with the notion of keeping a personal journal – and it’s proven to be a very valuable process for me ever since.
Here’s how that happened…
As it turns out, both my Dad and his Dad died from the effects of prostate cancer – and, as a result, I had begun a monitoring regime with my GP a few years ago utilizing PSA tests to monitor the health of my prostate. Two years ago, my PSA results crossed a threshold of concern – which led to me having a series of tests that identified I had a low grade prostate cancer.
After the tests raised the alarm, I sought the advice of prostate cancer specialists at the University of California – San Francisco. We entered an “active surveillance” program – involving periodic ultrasound examinations and PSA screenings. Early this year, my results indicated I’d crossed a threshold – where some sort of active treatment was going to be required. I opted for what’s known as a prostatectomy – a surgical procedure that removes the prostate gland and, in the process, hopefully excises the cancer. In my case, it worked very well – the cancer is gone.
I wanted to start keeping a post-surgery journal following my surgery – and, as it happened, Day One had been released just a few months before. The nerd that I am was attracted to the notion of having a journal in the cloud accessible from all of my various devices – and that’s what Day One promised to deliver. My first journal entry was early the morning of my surgery – as we were heading up to UCSF. My second journal entry was late afternoon the day after my surgery – appropriately titled “Coming Home” – describing how I was heading back home with my catheter installed and walking everywhere with “my bag” on my leg.
Since those initial entries, I’ve written at least once a day in my journal. Initially, mostly about how I was feeling post-surgery. But gradually my focus shifted – as my recovery progressed and I began writing in my journal about other, much more interesting things! Having a quick place to write my thoughts into my journal has been a delightful experience. I wish I’d started this practice a couple of years ago when I had rotator cuff surgery on my right shoulder.
As I look back on the last several months of snapshots of my thoughts captured in journal entries, I smile. They bring back memories, things I noticed at the time and would otherwise forget. Somehow having them at my fingertips just feels satisfying.
My journaling turns out to be a new treat – another lesson I learned in 2012.
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